The Last Rebellion, page 5
part #3 of EMP Survivor Series
“Don’t,” Charlie said as the shooter reached for his secondary weapon.
“It’s too late,” the shooter said, shaking from the blood loss. “We’ll get him out, and there is nothing you can do about it. And when he’s free, we’re going to bury you and your stupid little family—”
Charlie squeezed the trigger and shot the man in the head. Charlie’s breathing accelerated, but his training kicked in, and he steadied himself. He looked to the town, knowing he’d need to get Sir before he was lost forever.
The moment Sir heard the gunshots from inside his cell, he smiled. He had been lying on his cot, staring up at the gray ceiling, wondering how much longer he’d have to wait before his people came to rescue him.
Of course, Sir did calculate the possibility that his failsafe would… fail. But it was a tiny percentage of failure, and Sir had some of the best-trained fighters in the world loyal to him. It wasn’t an army by any means, but the security force at The Bunker was well-trained enough to handle anything that came their way. They were Spartans.
“The fuck is going on out there?”
The voice came from the adjacent cell. Sir didn’t respond to the question. He sat up from the cot and waited for his rescue. It wasn’t long before three men burst down the sheriff’s station front door and flooded inside the station.
“Sir,” The Bunker fighters said, walking up to the bars. “Apologies for taking so long.”
“It’s quite all right,” Sir said. “Just get me out of here, now.”
The other two fighters stood guard at the door while the third man reached for the keys along the wall. He inserted them into the lock, and the door swung open with a quick and heavy mechanism turn.
“Hey, wait!”
Sir paused after he exited the cell and looked at the other prisoner. He was pressed against the front of the cell, arms outstretched between the bars.
“Let me out,” he said. “I’ll help you. Please.”
Sir walked over to the man, studying him carefully. He had always been good at reading people. It was a requirement for the kind of work he did, and as he stared at the man now, he was sure of one thing: this wasn’t a man worth saving.
Sir said nothing else and turned his back to the prisoner.
“Wait, hey! Motherfucker, let me out!”
Sir ignored the prisoner’s pleas and waited by the front door with the other guards. “How much longer until I’m out of this place?”
“We’re waiting on our last man—”
“No more waiting,” Sir said. “He understood the risks of the job.”
Sir didn’t like it, but fear was creeping into his voice. The usually calm, calculated tone was damaged by what Charlie Owens had done to him. Because despite his reassurances to himself that he would be set free from this place, he couldn’t stop the fear raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Because as sure as he was that he would escape this place, he was equally sure Charlie would do everything within his power to stop him.
“We need to move to the marina, grab a boat,” the fighter said. “Keep Sir safe at all costs!”
The fighters all clustered around the front door. Sir waited behind them, clinging to their backs. He would use them as human shields if necessary. There was nothing that was going to stop him from getting out of here, no matter what—
Something smashed the front windows, and at first, Sir thought it was a grenade once the loud bang appeared. Sir was blind and deaf for a moment, disoriented from the blow. But if it had been an actual grenade, he knew he would have been dead.
But as Sir slowly checked his extremities and found that he was unharmed, saved for the ache in his back from falling over, he knew it was just a flashbang.
A few more bouts of gunfire were exchanged back and forth, but it quickly ended, and before Sir realized it, he had a gun shoved in his face, and when his vision cleared, he saw Charlie Owens standing over him.
7
Mainstreet was crowded from the aftermath of the fight. The four-person team who had come to break out Sir from prison had caused a significant amount of damage to the storefronts around the sheriff’s station. But while some of the people were grumbling about their broken-up property, Charlie was glad no one was seriously injured in the fight.
At least none of their people.
Three of the four-person team who came to rescue Sir were dead. The only person left alive had been shot but had survived the wound to the leg. She was currently bandaged up and restrained in the station.
Charlie, Shelly, Thompson, and Cash stood in front of the sheriff’s office, trying to figure out the best play forward to handle the situation.
“She won’t talk,” Charlie said.
“She might,” Thompson said. “These people aren’t brainwashed, are they?”
“No, but they might as well be,” Charlie answered. “These fighters wouldn’t have come if they weren’t loyal to him.”
“Maybe this was all that was left of his posse?” Cash asked.
“I don’t think so,” Charlie answered. “These fighters were sent on a mission to extract Sir and bring him back into the fold for wherever they were currently setting up operations. Others will come when those fighters don’t return, and it might be in numbers we can’t repel.”
“I still think we should question her,” Thompson said.
“Be my guest,” Charlie said.
The four of them entered the station, leaving the growing crowd without an update on what was happening. And while the sheriff was in charge, Charlie noticed several sets of eyes locked on him.
Even though Charlie had helped neutralize the situation, most believed this was his fault. Charlie had been the one to cause all of this trouble. They wanted someone to blame for their misfortune, and he and his family were easy targets.
Charlie, Shelly, and Cash hung back while Thompson entered the interrogation room. They couldn’t hear what was being said, but after only two minutes of Thompson asking questions, there was screaming inside.
“Get in here now!” Thompson shouted.
Charlie was the first one through the door and found Thompson standing over The Bunker security guard, choking on her own blood. At first, Charlie thought Thompson had hit the woman, but then he saw the small piece of flesh next to her face. She’d bitten off her tongue.
“What do we do now?” Cash asked.
Charlie stood and then walked back to the cells, where Sir sat on his cot, smiling.
“I told you the blood doesn’t wash off,” Sir said.
Charlie glanced down and noticed the blood splattered on him. Blood from The Bunker fighters he had killed. “How did your people know where to find me?” Charlie asked.
Sir laughed. “You just don’t get it, do you, Charlie?” He stood and walked to the bars at the front of the cell. “My people know I’m here. And they won’t stop until I’m back with them. Those people out there working for me understand their purpose. They’ll die for me. They’ll cut out their tongues and eyes before they betray me. No matter what you try to do, there is nothing that’s going to stop me from getting what I want. More will come, and the next wave of fighters, I promise you won’t be able to turn back.”
“We’ll see about that,” Charlie said.
“You’re in denial, Charlie,” Sir said. “Denial about who you are. You’re a killer. And no matter the lies you tell yourself or the lies you tell other people, that’s who you are. It was why you were so effective at The Bunker. And it was why you could still be an asset to me now.” He gripped the bars tightly, pressing his face between the narrow space. “Help me. If you do, you and your family will have everything you need. This whole island will become a paradise, a beacon of what can be achieved. Why struggle? Why make it harder for yourself when the path I’m offering is much easier?”
“The only path you offer leads to ruin,” Charlie answered. “You’ve always been good at talking. I’ll give you that. But if you don’t keep that mouth shut, I’ll rip that silver tongue out of you so it never speaks again.”
It was rare for Charlie to see Sir scared. The man had been in charge of so much for so long that a piece of him believed he was invincible. But beyond that invincibility was nothing more than a frightened boy trapped inside, pulling the strings. And before Charlie was finished, he was going to make sure he exposed Sir for what and who he was.
Sir said nothing else and retreated to his cot. Charlie motioned for Shelly and Thompson to follow him outside while Cash handled the mute.
“What are you thinking?” Thompson asked. “I don’t think he was lying about more people coming.”
“Me either,” Charlie said. “But I might know of someone else who can help.”
“Who?” Thompson asked.
“Another person who used to work with me at The Bunker,” Charlie answered. “I haven’t spoken to him in years, not that he’s the guy you want to have a conversation with. He went off the grid. I never knew why he left, but I suspect he realized what we know now about Sir and his game plan. He’s on the mainland, and if his information is still good, then I should be able to find him.”
“And how do you know this person will speak to you?” Shelly asked. “How do you know he’s not still in that man’s pocket like all these people?”
“Because he walked away,” Charlie answered. “Just like me. And he wouldn’t have done it unless he had a good reason. Plus, he’s the one who told me how to start prepping. I know I’ll be able to trust him.”
“All right,” Thompson said. “In the meantime, we should prepare for the fight. At least we’ll know how to get ready this time.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Charlie said. “That bastard always has a trick up his sleeve. We need to be ready for anything and everything.”
8
The morning was crisp and beautiful, but Danny couldn’t shake his anxiety. He was jittery, nervous, and unable to focus on anything for long. He walked behind Copeland, who led a group of five, including Danny.
None of them had any weapons, not that they owned any in the first place. But Danny brought his pistol. He would have felt naked without it and understood the world they were walking into better than these people.
Every once in a while, Danny winced from the gunshot wound he was recovering from, but the pain never lasted long. What slowed him down more than he expected were his wobbling legs. It had been a week since he’d been on dry land.
“It feels strange, doesn’t it?” Copeland asked, gesturing to the earth. “To be on something solid again?”
“Yeah,” Danny answered.
Everyone was silent during the walk, but it allowed Danny the opportunity to study the rest of the group. The other three were comprised of two men and one woman. The woman looked like she was in her sixties and struggled to keep up with the group but didn’t complain.
The two other men were around Danny’s age, maybe a little older. They were tall and lean, with little muscle, but it was hard to tell under their baggy robes. But unlike Copeland and the older woman, they had a hard stare.
Neither of them looked at anything other than straight ahead. They were focused, dogs waiting to be told what to do by their master. But Danny wasn’t sure what Copeland had planned for them.
“It was up here,” the old woman said. “I saw the smoke a few days ago.”
“Well, let’s hope our new friends are still here,” Copeland said, smiling and making no effort to lower his voice, which made Danny nervous.
Danny quickly walked up next to Copeland and whispered, “Maybe we should send some people ahead to scout it out.”
“Margery already scouted it for us,” Copeland said.
“She saw smoke,” Danny replied. “She doesn’t know how many people are there or if they’re armed, or—”
“Danny, calm yourself,” Copeland said, putting his arm over Danny’s shoulders. “There’s no reason to fret. Everything will be fine. We have to stay the course.”
Danny didn’t know why Copeland was so confident. If anything, the man should have been terrified of what could happen to them if they failed. But Danny had seen the worst of humanity, while Copeland refused to see any bad.
Danny didn’t push the subject further but wished he'd had when they finally saw the camp.
A small community had been erected out of abandoned cars along the highway. Most likely, there had been some wreck the day of the EMP involving a semi-truck, which acted as housing for the group.
Danny counted over a dozen faces. All of them were dirty and tired, hesitant of the group heading their way. He saw no guns but noticed some men picking up baseball bats.
“Friends!” Copeland explained, laughing even though no one else shared the same joyous sentiment. “Please, do not be afraid. We are not here to cause trouble.”
“What do you want?” The man at the front of the group had the beginnings of a thick beard. His hair was greasy and dirty, but his eyes were dark and alert. He was a man who had been shoved into the fires of violence early on in this disaster, and judging by the old blood stains on his baseball bat, he had no qualms about becoming physical.
“We want to offer you and your people a new home,” Copeland said.
“You should leave,” another man replied, holding a crowbar. “We don’t have anything to share with you.”
“We’re not here to take,” Copeland said. “We’re only here to give.”
Copeland reached into his robe faster than the other men were comfortable, but when he removed an apple, the others stared at him as if he’d done pure magic.
“For you,” Copeland said, and he tossed the apple to the man with the baseball bat.
The man held it in his hand like he was staring at something from another world. Danny wasn’t sure what they’d been eating, but he doubted they’d been enjoying fresh fruit.
The man bit into the apple with ravenous abandon, and the others gathered around him, clawing for a piece. They dropped their weapons, none concerned about what else the man with the apple might have in store for them.
Except for one man.
“And who the fuck are you?” The guy hopped off the back of the semi-truck trailer and landed hard on the asphalt. He wore boots, jeans, and a dirtied shirt and had the same look as all the men Danny had known during his time in prison. Someone who was always looking for a fight regardless of the circumstances.
“Friend, I’m Father Copeland, and I come from a nearby community to spread the good news,” Copeland said, unphased by the man’s intimidating stare.
Until now, Danny had kept his pistol concealed. He didn’t want to show his cards too early. But the urge to remove it was getting stronger and stronger the closer the violent man moved toward Copeland.
The others responded to their leader’s voice, dropping the apple and the last few crumbs in favor of their weapons.
“You’re no friend,” he said. “We don’t know you, and you should get the fuck out of here while you still can.”
Now that Danny had a closer look at the man, he noticed an old scar running the width of his forehead. It was helped concealed by some wrinkles, but it was still visible.
“I understand,” Copeland said calmly. “But, I think your people deserve to know what we have for them, should they choose to come—”
“Fucking leave!” the man shouted.
The other two men with Copeland stepped forward, clenching their hands into fists, and the tension heightened.
“I see you have children,” Copeland said.
Danny glanced at the semi-truck where they’d been hiding. He hadn’t noticed them before, but they were all young, looking out of the darkened truck interior with nervous eyes.
“Surely you want a better future for your kids,” Copeland said. “It’s what all parents want.”
Their leader didn’t flinch at those words, but the others murmured amongst themselves, and the leader noticed he was losing his people. “You can’t be serious about this?”
“The children haven’t had food like this since the power shut off,” one of the men said. “They brought us this when they didn’t have to. Don’t you think we should check them out?”
“Look at them!” the violent man said. “They’re a bunch of freaks in robes! They’re not here to help us. They’re only here to service their agenda!”
The longer this was drawn out, the more acutely aware Danny was of the weapon he’d brought with him. He didn’t want to cause a scene or trigger more bloodshed than was necessary, but he didn’t survive a gunshot and a collapsed building to be killed in the street over this argument.
“The only agenda we have is to improve the lives and the world around us,” Copeland said. “We’re here to offer a better path.” He stepped forward now that he had everyone’s attention, and the hungry people leaned into his voice like a comforting pillow. “We have food, water, and medicine. Our good friend, Danny, was injured, and we nursed him back to health.” He turned to Danny. “Isn’t that right?”
Every eye turned to Danny. He hadn’t expected to be forced to speak.
“It’s true,” Danny said, clearing his throat. “I would have died if they hadn’t found me. I haven’t been in the community for long, but they’ve… treated me like family.”
Even though it was the truth, the words still felt false on Danny’s tongue. He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the entire truth, either. He suspected that if he did, then there would be a fight on their hands.
“We only want to help,” Copeland said, but then he stepped back and raised his hands. “But I understand if you’re not comfortable with going any further. Really. The state of the world has made it difficult to know whom to trust.”
And just like that, Copeland turned away, gesturing for the others to follow suit. Danny couldn’t believe Copeland was giving up so quickly. But when he looked behind him as they walked away and saw the group chatting amongst themselves, Danny realized the genius in Copeland’s design.
